


Truth is a Whisper

by LyonessofAvalon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2717723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyonessofAvalon/pseuds/LyonessofAvalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jody’s been feeling the travel bug creeping up on her and embarks on one of those famed Great American Road Trip with Linda Tran as they both try to cope with the loss of their sons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth is a Whisper

**Author's Note:**

> Set mid-season 9

Jody’s been feeling the travel bug creeping up on her for a few months, but she’s put it off again and again and again. She hears about Kevin Tran, and his death, and the return of his mother, and she realizes that maybe she was just waiting for someone who needed help. She calls Linda, several weeks after the Winchesters said that she had returned home.

Jody starts to get nervous as the phone rings. There is no kink in her plans though, as Linda seems to jump at the chance though, to drive, to get away.  
  
On the other end of the line, Linda looks sadly at the chair where Kevin would usually manifest. That changed two days ago. He had appeared for several days prior visibly upset, yelling and crying. Two days ago he appeared on last time, tears in his eyes. He wasn’t safe anymore. He was afraid he would hurt her. She cried, begging him not to leave. He was determined though, spurred on by his fear and love.  
  
He left. Linda sat in his chair and wept. It’s really not surprising that she wants to get out of this place. If she left for long enough, maybe he would be home when she returned.  
  
Jody picks her up early the next morning. Linda is dry eyed and subdued in contrast to the sheriff’s chipper attitude. Jody makes small talk on the way out of town Linda listens, glad to hear another voice. Jody stops suddenly at one point, realizing that her companion has barely said a word in two hours. Linda tells her that it’s fine but Jody smoothly changes the topic to Linda’s interests. It’s not long after lunch before the both fall silent, watching the miles pass by.  
  
It’s mostly quiet the first few days, the radio playing ‘60s tunes. But it’s an easy sort of quiet, one that is comfortable in its stillness. The lakes they pass mimic that stillness with their depth and clarity, the forests they hike through seem deep and somehow impenetrable. They stay out of large cities but pass a few, the glass and chrome and steel glinting in the hot sunlight as they drive further west. They sleep in cheap motels, neon signs flaring brightly in the dark.  
  
They go to the Grand Canyon and Flagstaff and stand against the railing looking out over the horizon. They each have a tight grip on the metal bars keeping them from falling over the cliff, saying just what their sons would have said.  
  
Jody buys a small bow and arrow set at one of the souvenir shops, ignoring the pain that said Owen would have been too big for it now. She puts it in the trunk, slamming it down before the tears started to flow. She leans forward on her elbows, hands gripped tightly together and cries, her head bowed down to rest on her fists.  
  
Jody doesn’t hear Linda come over until the dark haired woman puts a hand on her shoulder. Jody turns and Linda opens her arms, wordless. She takes the taller woman and holds her, both of them crying now, leaning against Jody’s old car.  
  
The tears ebb in a few minutes and after drying their eyes they leave the mountain without looking back.  
  
The scenery is beautiful, mountain tops still capped with snow, sharp cold air in their nostrils every time they stretched their legs as they wind their way down the mountain. They reach the base and drive through the desert states, the sand golden yellow and hot to look at, Saguaros and cholla thrusting their spines into the sky and creeping along the ground.  
  
They drive through the desert at night and stop, marveling at the diamond-laced sky overhead. It’s clearer than either woman has ever seen. The Milky Way stands out pale and undulating and they understand exactly how it gained its name. The moon is a pale shadow of herself, thin and waning high in the heavens. They point out starts and etch out constellations with their fingertips, sharing what they could remember about the stories behind the names and making up new histories for the shapes they created.  
  
Linda sighs, “Kevin would have loved this. He would have insisted we go to the Challenger Center as soon as we hit the city.”  
  
“Owen loved spaceships,” Jody said wistfully. “We should go-for the boys.”  
  
They make it most of the way through the Space Center, happily pointing out photographs and ships and even trying some of the interactive exhibits, ignoring the somewhat judgmental looks by other adults, who only tried the exhibits when their young children wanted to play. As much as it hurt them both to look at the kids, they manage to enjoy themselves for several hours without even noticing time passing. But Linda takes one look at the image of the Challenger crew and quickly makes her way to the restroom. Jody hesitates, not sure if it’s her place to follow.  
  
Finally, she does.  
  
“Linda? Hey…let’s get out of here, yeah?”  
  
She exits the end stall, eyes glistening but face dry.  
  
“Thank you,” she says quietly, once they have left the building. “I’m glad we went.”  
  
“Good,” Jody says firmly, without looking. “Let’s go see a giant ball of twine or something.”  
  
Linda lets out a soft huff of laughter that makes Jody smile as well.  
  
They do make to a giant ball of twine. Jody takes quick photos of Linda’s face as she takes in just how big it is, and tries to determine who figured that it was worth collecting. It goes like this for a few more days, hitting roadside attractions and avoiding consequential conversations.  
  
The process of opening up to each other is slow and painful. Tears are shed. It’s a rough second week on the road. Once they start talking though, it’s like a dam has burst. It starts with simple things like music and books and movies, to more intimate details. They talk about their childhoods, the dreams they had back then. They share embarrassing stories and fond memories. Linda talks about losing her husband when Kevin was five. Jody’s hands grip the steering wheel too tightly.  
Linda sees this and says quietly, “You can talk about it.”  
  
“Owen died when he was five,” Jody says, no preamble, no stutters. Just a cold statement of fact, this basic piece of information that changed her whole life.  
  
“I didn’t realize-“  
  
“I know,” Jody took a deep breath. “I know. I asked you to come with me because I knew you’d be hurting and it might help to have someone around to know what you’re going through. I didn’t expect it to hit me so hard.”  
  
“I thought that was the worst,” she continued. “I thought for so long that losing our son was the worst thing Jim and I would ever have to go through. And then-he came back. Owen came back. The town-the dead walked. It was a miracle. Until they started killing. My son-my baby boy- he killed his father. And he didn’t know, didn’t understand. There was nothing left of my son. God.”  
  
She was crying again and Linda sat stock still, listening.  
  
“I realized that the worst thing can always happen.” She finally looked at Linda, and the thrall broke. She put her hand on Jody’s knee and her face lost some of its tension.  
  
“It took a while,” she continued. “But I figure out that better things were always going to keep coming too.”  
  
Jody finally smiled a little. It was weak and watery and fragile, but Linda felt gratified nonetheless.  
  
After that the radio wavered through any station they could get it to pick up, from new pop to NPR to screaming metal. They would turn up the volume and sing along (making the words up if needed) or turn it down and spend an hour debating over two off-color lines a radio host said. They listed to Game of Thrones on audiobook and picked their favorite characters, squabbling cheerfully over who should triumph in the end.  
  
They go to see a giant blue whale statue in Oklahoma- Jody is pointing and gaping in feigned horror as Linda smiles and tells people that it’s been known to come to life. They do this for nearly an hour before management escorts them off the premises.  
  
At Cadillac Ranch they take turns popping out from behind the cars and laughing. Jody gets a shot of Linda pretending to hold up the cars-one of those optical illusion photographs.  
  
They grow closer as the days go by, causal touches slowly becoming more intimate. Linda’s put her head on Jody’s shoulder, Jody has wrapped her arms around Linda. They share their grief, the tight wad in their bellies that is both better and worse for the sharing. Some days were harder than others.  
  
They stop at a small roadside motel at the edge of a desert town. The evening procedure is well settled at this point- each woman brings in her bags, Linda takes the bathroom first while Jody changes clothes. They swap, sometimes smiling at each other, Linda teasing Jody about her lengthening hair. On the harder days, when they have misstepped, they avoid eye contract until one cracks a bad joke and suddenly there is laughter again. Sometimes there are no jokes to crack, and they go to sleep and let the night wash away the small sins and the sadness.  
  
Tonight was one of the nights where they couldn’t bear to look at each other. When Jody emerged from the bathroom Linda was already in her bed, facing the opposite wall.  
  
Jody crawls into bed, lying flat on her back, just staring at the ceiling. Her mind drifted from her recent adventures with Linda back to the birth of her son, her promotion to sheriff, to her wedding day. She wants to tell Jim stories about the fun she’s had on this trip, wants to share it with her son. She wants to tell Linda more about her past and she realizes she’s happier now that she’s been for years, that the weight the church group and grief counselors have only somewhat assuaged has been nearly absent. She’s still grieving, but so is Linda and there’s some strange comfort in that. Jody admires Linda’s tenacity, and her will, and her capacity for both justice and compassion.  
  
Jody doesn’t know when the tears start, only that they are streaming down her already damp cheeks. It’s sorrow and hope all rolled into one in an unstoppable tide of saudade. She turns onto her side, her body curling in on itself as she tries to keep the sudden surge of emotion quiet. She doesn’t hear Linda leave her bed and walk over to Jody. She only feels the other woman’s hand on her shoulder, then quietly rubbing her back, in a soothing circular motion.  
  
“Is this alright?” she asks softly and sits down on the bed. It dips slightly in response and Jody nods, unable to talk.  
  
“It’s okay,” Linda says, keeping her hands moving, comforting. Jody still can’t stop crying. She shudders.  
  
“Do you want me to lie down?”  
  
Jody nods again, and manages to get out a quiet, choked “yeah”, so Linda lies down and wraps her arms around the taller woman.  
  
Linda was warm and comforting against Jody’s back and she settles in, feeling calmer.  
  
“Stay with me?” she whispers.  
  
“Of course,” Linda replies.  
  
They fall asleep, sorrows put aside for the night. In the morning, they wake carefully, gently. It is Linda who kisses Jody on the cheek after the younger woman opens her eyes and smiles.  
  
It is Jody who wraps her arms around Linda this time, and murmurs “Can I?” and it is Linda who nods in agreement. Jody pulls her in for a full kiss, pure and sweet as a mountain stream. The rest of the morning retains that sense of wonderment and oblectation as they learn about each other, slowly, tenderly, reverently. The only sounds are their soft questions and accedence and the sighs and moans accompanying the agreements.  
  
This begins the routine that lasts for the remaindering few days of the trip, as they work through their grief together. It’s hushed moments under the desert sky and boisterous laughter touring yet another mystery spot. It’s crying and holding each other and kissing the tears away and driving off into the sunrise as they end their road trip, having found strength and solace in each other that would last far beyond the end of the pavement.

**Author's Note:**

> Saudade is a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia (Portuguese and Brazilian origin)   
> Oblectation is the act of pleasing highly; the state of being greatly pleased; delight.


End file.
